


The Gory Bits Of You And The Gory Bits Of Me

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Smash (TV)
Genre: F/F, baby fic sort of, psot series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn't, not really. Only the smudgeness of it; the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn't realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it's the halves that halve you in half. I didn't know, don't know, about the in-between bits; the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.</p>
<p>_______Like Crazy</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gory Bits Of You And The Gory Bits Of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UbiquitousMixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/gifts).



> I have been working on this for MONTHS and it is finally done. I miss these bitches already :( people need to keep the ship alive.

“Hey, lady the meter’s still running!”

Karen sighs her frustration at the impatient cab driver, pulls out a twenty from her pocket and hands it to him through the open passenger window.

“Just go, I’m going up.”

He curses something under his breath which she doesn’t take the time to identify because she’s too frustrated with Ivy as it is. Instead, she pulls out her phone and dials the blonde’s number, glaring up at her bedroom window as if to somehow will her to come out. She gets Ivy’s voicemail once again and Karen shivers in her coat, her boots crunching the snow on the sidewalk as she shifts her weight.

Hi, you’ve reached Ivy Lynn…

“Unbelievable,” she mumbles, waiting for the ever cheerful message to end before inhaling deeply. “Ivy, as much as I enjoy watching you make an entrance worthy of an MGM production, I wait, with bated breath for you to please get your ass down here and open the door…” Karen’s answer to her prayers for some heat takes form in the shape of a man exiting the building, who holds the door open for her as she bolts for it, ridding of her phone in the process.

She nods her thanks and finds the elevator, punching in Ivy’s floor number and picturing different colorful images of her strangling or hurting Ivy in some way or another for making her wait outside in the middle of Winter. What kind of person does that--make them late for said person’s OBGYN appointment? Ivy Lynn, of course.

Karen blows hot hair into her hands and instantly regrets not wearing gloves.

The elevator stops and Karen makes her way to Ivy’s door with familiar ease. Three strides and a right turn, all the way down the hall to the triple lock door.

Karen knocks, lacking all patience, as she’s lost it somewhere on the cold concrete. There is no answer and she instantly remembers last month when Ivy made her wait outside her building for twenty minutes because she couldn’t get her eyeliner just right. Karen never asked Ivy why she insisted on inviting her along to her appointments since Derek disappeared. Karen didn’t really care because she thought it would be nice to see the evolution of this little baby, and part of her just really wanted to see Ivy pregnant and glowing at a million months pregnant, possibly wobbling a little.

“Ivy, I swear to god--” A crash inside interrupts her in mid scold and Karen’s blood suddenly freezes to a peak before she goes for the knob. “Ivy?” A strangled sob is heard from the bathroom, where the door is ajar and Karen’s breath hitches as she turns straight into it. Ivy doesn’t react where she sits. She is near her tub, legs pulled up to her chest, one arm draped over her swollen abdomen.

“Ivy, what’s the matter?”

She looks up then, her clean tear streaked face telling Karen that the expectant mother never really got to her make up. She sobs again and shakes her head, wincing in what appears to be pain as Karen moves quickly to her. “I don’t know, I--I was bleeding and--but now it hurts and I can’t, I can’t move, I’m scared, Karen…”

“Okay, that’s okay.” Karen grabs a nearby towel and wets it in the sink, then wipes Ivy’s face clean of her tears before grabbing a firm hold of her elbow. “Cramping is totally normal, I read. I’m pretty sure everything is fine, but we’re going to have to go to the Doctor anyway, okay? Just to have you checked out. Okay? You lean on me.”

Ivy nods her head and a trembling moan escapes her as Karen lifts her to her feet. Karen feels a deep hollow void in her stomach. She’s never seen Ivy like this. She can see the pain in her eyes and in her trembling hands.

Karen could easily wallow in the ugliness of it all, but she’s learned over the years not to wait in times of desperation. She gets Ivy into her coat, grabs the blonde’s purse and wraps a warm scarf around her, ushering her out the door even as she dials Ivy’s phone for her Doctor.

In the cab, Ivy squeezes Karen’s hand and Karen tells her it will be okay. Ivy just wipes tears away with her free hand.

It isn’t easy or painless. It isn’t even remotely modest. There is an actual vacuum like apparatus they use to suck the fetus out and Karen herself can’t hold back the tears, so she makes sure to stand clear of Ivy’s line of vision as her chin quivers and all the pain and emotion the blonde is holding in.

Ivy doesn’t shed a tear during the entire procedure and she doesn’t say a word when it’s over and she’s instructed to remain on her back for twenty minutes after.

They don’t know what it was. It’s been quite the modest baby so far and they were yet to see its sex. Ivy doesn’t want to know even now.

Karen watches the Doctor address Ivy with instructions on the next few days, listens to him tell her she needs to take it easy. Ivy nods and even smiles once in a while. Karen can’t handle it and she excuses herself from the room, single mindedly finding the nearest bathroom and locking herself in it just as her own grief betrays her and she’s muffling her sobs into her palm, letting the water in the sink run, hoping it will do something to curtain the sound. She braces herself over the marble sink and lets the tears fall. She thinks about the ultrasound pinned to Ivy’s refrigerator and it turns Karen’s stomach. Somewhere behind the crying, she makes a mental note to take it down the second they walk back into Ivy’s apartment.

It’s ten minutes before she gets herself together. Her head is pounding and she can’t do much about her puffy red eyes and pink nose, but she hopes Ivy won’t care.

She gets a few curious glances on her way back to Ivy but no one stops her. Karen thinks they see enough crying women around here. She knocks before entering and she’s about to ask Ivy how she’s doing when she spots the blonde standing and buttoning her sweater.

“Ivy, what are you doing? The doctor said you need to wait.”

Ivy looks up, face expressionless. “I just want to get home,” and then at noting Karen’s disheveled appearance, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ivy--”

“Karen!” Ivy catches herself and takes a breath before continuing slowly, “I really, really just want to go home. Okay?”

“Okay.” Karen nods, “Okay, let’s get you home. Are you okay walking while I go get us a cab?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” she gives Karen a tiny smirk that Karen almost buys, but not really.

She’s grateful for the cold breeze outside for a minute because it dulls the prickling tears she’s trying to hold back and thought she’d shed already.

The cab arrives right before Ivy does and aside from the paced walking and messy bun on her head, the blonde looks like that superstar she’s known to be.

Karen holds the door open for her and then runs around to the other side. She gives the cab driver Ivy’s address and then sits back beside her, making sure not to react to the blonde as she leans into her shoulder briefly before leaning against the door instead.

“Do you uh--want to pick up something to eat? You must be hungry.”

“No,” Ivy says, eyes out the window.

“Okay.”

“I’m not a baby, Karen. You don’t have to feed me and burp me.” There’s an extra edge to her tone and her voice nearly cracks in the end, nearly breaking Karen’s heart all over again.

“I’m sorry.”

In the window’s reflection, Karen can see Ivy screw her eyes shut.

Their relationship has always been complicated. Karen isn’t even sure she can call it a friendship most of the time, but Ivy is a lot like a cat that way. Only pleasant and warm when she wants to be, hissy and sharp clawed the rest of the time. Karen’s learned to appreciate the fact over time. Because when Ivy’s defenses are down, and they have been ever since she decided to tell Karen about the pregnancy, she’s the best person in the world to have on your side.

The rest of the ride is silent for the most part. When they get upstairs, Karen stares at the refrigerator and hopes Ivy just wants to go to sleep.

“You don’t have to stay,” Ivy says coldly.

“I’m making you some tea,” Karen snaps right back, turning into the kitchen as Ivy walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Karen pockets the ultrasound image without looking at it before she turns on the stove and then shrugs off her jacket.

She drops her belongings on Ivy’s chair, the one by the window. She cleans up the little bit of clutter strewn about the room, and it isn’t until she’s changed the bed sheets and the kettle begins to whistle that she realizes Ivy is still in the bathroom. She isn’t’ going to take any chances this time and after shutting off the stove, she walks right into the bathroom, where Ivy is standing in front of the mirror in her underwear, staring at her reflection, in particular, at her belly, which she touches gingerly before dropping her hand away and glancing over at Karen.

“It doesn’t feel empty,” she says, her eyes wide and nearly desperate, “It doesn’t--why didn’t it want to stay with me? It was MY baby…my baby…” And then she’s trying to catch her breath, gasping and nearly folding over as the first full cry leaves her and Karen hurries to her, holding onto her and holding her up with both arms. She presses the blonde to her chest, her head cradled underneath her chin.

“There was nothing you could have done and it was nothing you did, Ivy.” Pressing her lips to Ivy’s crown in a rare moment of tenderness, Karen wonders why it is that just when someone seems to have it all together, things fall apart so abruptly it echoes. She wonders if Ivy has ever been this distraught, and she wonders why she’s holding on so tightly, even after the blonde has stopped crying, but mostly, she wonders why her chest is aching in a brand new way for the woman.

Fear grips the brunette, the blatant urge to get up and leave embracing her as tightly as she’s holding onto Ivy.

But then Ivy shifts in her arms, sniffling and turning her body away, embarrassed, until her back is fully facing Karen, who seems lost and is wondering what to do with her arms, since they feel so empty.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Sure. I’ll be right out there if you need me.”

Ivy nods her head briefly but doesn’t say another word. She doesn’t tell Karen to leave either, which she takes as a good sign as she shuts the bathroom door behind her.

There are a few baby things in Ivy’s closet she’s been saving and has not put out because she has been hunting for a bigger place. Karen eyes the closet from a safe distance and tries to execute a quick plan with the purpose of getting it all out of Ivy’s apartment with minimal disturbance. She briefly considers doing it now, wondering how long it takes Ivy to shower, but she soon realizes what a ridiculous plan this is and just hopes Ivy won’t wander inside the closet with the intention of torturing herself with painful memories of brighter expectations.

She stirs a spoonful of honey in a cup until she finds herself thoughtlessly pulling the ultrasound out from her back pocket. She stares at the darkened, fuzzy looking thing and that lump of emotion blocks her windpipe, rimming her eyes with tears until she pushes out one heavy breath that leaves her weak and holding onto the kitchen counter as she closes her eyes and forces her tears to stay put.

Putting herself in Ivy’s position is not as difficult as she thinks, because she’s been there through most of it, but on second thought, with a clearer understanding, Karen decides Ivy will be pissed if she comes out here and things are not where she left them. Cleansing and removing has to be a step she takes on her own and so Karen puts the ultrasound back where it’s been hanging for the better part of a month now.

Ivy is out of the shower and I her robe within twenty minutes. She’d let the water run as hot as her body could take and now it is evident on her skin, but she feels heavy and tired and can’t bother with vanity. Not today.

Karen is quiet as a mouse and doesn’t coddle her aside from the cup of tea she hands her once she’s under the covers. She closes the blinds for Ivy, leaves a bottle of water at her bedside and turns out the light before leaving with a curt, “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Ivy wants to say thank you but she can’t get up the energy. She hopes Karen understands. Her tea is only half gone before she drifts off.

She doesn’t dream that night. Or if she does, she doesn’t recall it the following morning. When she tries to remember, it’s all a fog. Her stomach cramps and as she sits up in bed and her eyes fall instantly upon the closet door, where she knows her biggest obstacle yet lies, she shuts her eyes and buries her face in her hands, leaving that for another day.

Checking her phone, she sees three things, a confirmation for a follow up with her Doctor two weeks away, a missed call from her mother she chooses to ignore, and a text message from Karen. A very simple ‘Remember the place with the Guac? Expect some at lunchtime’.

Ivy smiles in spite of herself and waits a moment before slowly climbing out of bed, deciding that a walk around the block might just do her some good.

The Farmer’s market around the nicer side of the park has some mighty tempting tomatoes and Ivy finds herself craving a homemade salad, so she buys a couple of those and some lettuce and cucumbers, enough for two, and a loaf of warm bread to cook up a couple of sandwiches.

She manages to kill an hour shopping around and by the time she gets home, she nearly regrets it. Her body isn’t quite ready for even the slightest exertion after the beating it’s taken only the day before and she feels tired and out of breath, queasy as she climbs the six steps up to the front door of her building.

Alone in the elevator, she rests her head back against the wall and waits for the lift to bring her to her floor, only when it does, she dreads the empty apartment that awaits her. She can practically feel the cramping all over again, unsure if it’s residual pain from the procedure, or if it’s quite simply a phantom sort of memory coming back to haunt her. Either way, she doesn’t like it--doesn’t like the way it makes her want to crawl into herself.

Her feet seem to drag as she takes the slowest, shortest steps to her door. Every breath she takes brings her closer to that hollow space that seems to be both too small and too big at the same time. She wants to cry and she feels dizzy. Gripping the grocery bag in her hand tighter until her own nails are digging into her palm, she turns the corner to her approaching destination and instantly sighs her relief at the sight of Karen Cartwright standing at her door with her phone to her ear, smiling immediately at spotting Ivy approaching.

“Oh, hi, I was about to call you.”

Karen laughs a little and Ivy smiles, her pace her regular quick step now, only, she must seem a bit pale because Karen’s smile fades into a frown and her brow burrows with worry before the brunette is quickly at Ivy’s side, taking the bags from the smaller woman.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed groceries? You should be resting.”

“I didn’t go far, I didn’t think--” Ivy stops in mid sentence to catch her breath, bracing herself involuntarily with one hand on Karen’s forearm, “--oh I’m really tired.”

Karen has the door open and is ushering Ivy in before the blonde can even register that she’s moving.

Ivy settles down at the edge of her bed, closing her eyes to collect herself, listening intently to Karen rummaging around in the kitchen, putting things away and pulling dishes out.

“I bought uh--stuff for sandwiches.”

“I’ve got it,” Karen replies, already having started with a knife to the tomatoes, “You stay there.”

“Okay.” Ivy says, not bothering to open her eyes, afraid the room will be spinning if she does. A silence stretches out between them. In the kitchen, Karen hums softly as she works and Ivy winces, the sound moving her to suddenly say, “Thank you, Karen.”

Karen stops in mid chop to the fresh lettuce and she smiles to herself. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to be here.”

Karen is a bit of a food enthusiast and she firmly believes that it’s all in the presentation, so she pulls a tray from the highest shelf in Ivy’s kitchen, places two sandwiches on it that would be worthy of Martha Stewart herself, places the famous guacamole in in a bowl, centered on the tray and then fills two glasses with iced mineral water that she tops with slices of lemon.

When she comes around, proudly with her tray of delectable arrangements, she’s shocked to see Ivy’s closet door open, the light on and she doesn’t have to guess what Ivy is doing.

The tray is set aside and Karen watches as Ivy steps out with am armful of unwrapped toys.

“I’m okay, I just really want to get rid of these.”

Karen waits for a moment before stepping forward and taking the toys from her. “I’ll do this. Please sit down and eat something.”

“You really don’t have to do this--”

“What do you want to get rid of?”

“Everything,” Ivy says softly, “Just--everything, I don’t want to think about it anymore, I just don’t’ want to be sad about it for longer than I have to be.”

“Everything. Got it.”

***************

Ivy doesn’t go back to work for three weeks, during which she busies herself with working out and getting herself back into fighting shape. Karen makes it habit to join her for a run every morning, because she needs the cardio of course and not at all because she’s worried that the ambitious blonde might be overdoing it.

Ivy doesn’t talk about the miscarriage anymore. Karen remembers mentioning it once the day after she dropped off the baby toys at a donation center downtown and that was that.

Though, once she returned to rehearsal, Ivy was her vivacious leading lady self once more, bursting with contagious energy every day. As days passed, Karen found herself preoccupied with her own work and the two women found themselves slowly drifting back to where they were before the pregnancy.

It wasn’t something Karen missed heavily as opposed more idly, on moments where she could come home, catch her breath and check her phone for messages that weren’t there.

But work is fulfilling, so much so that she could be one of those people who could very proudly say they have a career and not a job. Because it’s fun and exhilarating and every thing she ever dreamed of. She wonders if Ivy is having as much fun.

It’s a month before Karen has a couple of days off, and she finds herself with nothing to do on a Monday morning and wondering if Ivy is up for doing nothing in particular.

Karen rolls onto her back on her freshly made bed and smiles proudly at her brightest idea yet and holds her phone up, quickly finding Ivy’s number and dialing, getting an answer on the third ring.

“Hi.”

“Hi, stranger. Feel like eating something fattening?”

Ivy smiles against the phone, “Yeah, where do you want to meet me?”

***************

“Holy shit, this is spicy.”

Karen smiles through a spoonful of chili and then blows inward, her tongue already singed after only two spoons of the god forsaken--delicious--dish.

It’s cold out, but tolerable. There are food trucks parked all around the park form a nice little heat circle around the area. That and the large number of foodies gathered round make it a nice atmosphere on an otherwise cold New York city night.

Ivy picks her beer off the blue plastic table and drinks heartily.

“Whoo!” A tiny trickle of beer has trailed down her chin and she wipes it away quickly. “That was my first beer since before I was pregnant.”

Her gaze drops for a second and Karen feels guilty for not trying harder to stick around for the blonde.

“How are you doing, Ivy?”

“I’m okay,” She says quickly, taking smaller portions of her chili. “I’m--okay.”

“Ivy, I’m so sorry…”

“What for?”

“I should have been around--”

“I didn’t make it easy.”

“I should have tried harder.”

Ivy smiles again, even as she bites into a particularly big piece of pepper and her mouth burns all over again. After another sip of beer, she rolls back her shoulders, tilts her chin and sighs, “Anyone ever tell you you’re too nice, Cartwright?”

Karen blushes guiltily and looks away. Three tables down, a little girl cuddles against her mother.

“Yeah, actually. But seriously--”

“I do my repairing alone, Karen.” Ivy shrugs. “It’s sort of my thing. I don’t rely on people to fix me. But I’m glad you called me.”

Looking forward to a change of subject, Karen nods approvingly. “So how’s Bombshell?”

“Amazing. Exhausting. How’s Hit List?”

“Amazing and exhausting. And sucking up all my time.” Karen heaves a happy sigh and shrugs her shoulders, “But it’s more amazing than exhausting.”

“Yeah.”

Something trespasses between them then, tension still lingering between them evaporates and the connection they had been fighting is somehow cemented.

Suddenly, Ivy pushes her bowl aside and shakes her head, “I cannot finish this. You’re insane, I don’t know how you can eat it.”

“I have an iron stomach.”

“An iron stomach, huh? You have some graceful eating habits, too.”

Karen freezes as soon as she sees Ivy’s hand coming. A year ago, it would be getting ready to strike her, but now, she isn’t sure what to expect. Ivy wipes chili off the corner of her mouth with her thumb and it occurs to Karen that this is the first time Ivy’s made physical contact with her without any actual incentive. It feels nice and warm, like a burning fire in her chest that’s only now enveloping her and she thinks she likes it.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“You tell me, you invited me, Iowa. Don’t get lazy on me now.”

Karen laughs.

“I am pretty lazy on my days off, actually. I don’t do much now that I don‘t see you as often, so you’re going to have to have some patience.”

“Well, what would you usually be doing if you weren’t hanging out with me?”

“Truthfully?”

“Yes.”

“I’d be lounging around in my pajamas, watching Lifetime movies and ordering greasy take out.”

“Add in a six pack and I’m in.”

***************

Karen’s apartment is nice. Spacious for a New York apartment, and definitely much bigger than Ivy’s.

There are a lot of windows, a lot of sunshine. It’s homey and welcoming--almost cheesy. Ivy reminds herself she’s a better person now and that she likes Karen.

“Where’s your roommate?” Ivy asks, shrugging off her coat as she looks around the living room.

“Oh, she has a boyfriend so she spends most of her time at his place. It’s nice, it sort of feels like I live alone.”

Ivy knows the feeling well. She didn’t have to go through many roommates before finding her little gem of an apartment, but boy did she taste independence the day she signed that lease. She gets it. Understands completely.

Karen comes up behind her and Ivy shivers, jumping a little at the first feel of the brunette’s body heat.

“It’s just us today.”

Ivy turns her head left and meets Karen’s perky little smirk with one of her own before handing her coat over. Their hands brush and in that moment, and in that moment Ivy feels nervous. And full of something she didn’t know she was missing. A strand of Karen’s hair falls stubbornly over her eye and the blonde fights the urge to reach out and brush it back. She swallows and licks her lips instead.

“Good, let’s fire up that TV.”

****************

“This channel is the best thing television has ever done.”

It turns out, that while both women were busy thinking about all the time they spent together before they stopped spending time together, they forgot to include the fact that all their time was spent at OBGYN appointments and short meals afterward. And it turns out that they actually do enjoy each other’s company outside of tragic happenings and Broadway musicals.

It’s alarmingly comfortable and as Karen munches on a piece of banana lathered in butter pecan ice cream and watches The Casey Anthony Story, Ivy feels the anxious need to rest her head upon the other woman’s shoulder. She wants so badly to be pressed against Karen’s side, with her arm wrapped around her, to feel like someone’s got her. And then maybe she could sleep for a while.

“--the funniest part of this whole thing is Rob Lowe,” Karen laughs, fleetingly looking over at Ivy, who hasn’t really been listening. “Ivy? You okay?”

“I still have the ultrasound,” The blonde blurts. “I carry it in my purse everyday.”

Karen is speechlessly staring back and listening intently.

“I’m not crazy or anything, I know--I mean, I know what happened and I’m moving past it but every time I go to throw it out, I just can’t--” her voice breaks and she takes a moment with a breath that helps her with the residual feeling of failure that could so easily overwhelm her. “I think I’m just scared. I mean, I’m not done. You know? I want children, I want a baby. What if that’s as close as I’m going to get?”

Karen shifts in her seat to face the blonde and instantly takes both her hands in hers and holds the saddened blue stare. “Ivy, you’ll have it. If you want a child, you will have a child.”

“How?” Ivy asks, her eyes wide, her vision blurred by tears yet to fall, and hoping she doesn’t sound very pathetic. She smiles through her fear, as if it will miraculously erase the insecurities she’s making so painfully vocal, without her control it seems.

Karen lowers her chin and the corner of her lips turns up. “Ivy. Come on. You don’t need a man to have a baby anymore. Not in the literal sense anyway. If you meet someone, great, and if you don’t and you want to have a baby, you’ll have one. And--there’s nothing wrong with you keeping the ultrasound. I mean--I would.”

Ivy smiles an honest-to-god un-faked smile and Karen feels it in her chest. It feels like a victory.

“You look really pretty when you smile.”

Ivy’s smile broadens when Karen blushes furiously.

“I mean, you always look pretty, but you know--I was trying to make you feel better, just forget it.”

Karen laughs anxiously and scoots away without thinking and without noting the clear disappointment written all over Ivy’s face.

Chit-chatting and the unmentioned flirting is nice, innocent as it may be, fruitless as it may be, it is comfort. And comfort is what Ivy is lacking these days.

“It did make me feel better, don’t cry about it.”

Karen playfully glares, Ivy glares back and scoots a little closer as they both return their attention to the television.

Their shoulders are brushing now and the apartment seems less cozy and more on the warm side.

The pizza man arrives and Karen offers a meek ’oh I’ll get it’ in a voice so small, it sounds forced into a near whisper.

Fighting the urge to hide her face in her hands, Ivy closes her eyes while Karen pays for their food and the man leaves. Her eyes don’t open until the door closes again and she does all she can to seem as invested in the pizza as Karen is pretending to be.

The rest of the night is spent with a fairly noticeable space between them, with it culminating in an awkward goodbye at the door.

***************

Tom shows up unannounced at Ivy’s the following morning, all smiles and holding up a tray with two coffees and a box of donuts.

“Hi, you big Tony Award winner.”

She stifles a yawn with her hand as she holds the door open for him and he eyes her worriedly.

“Still no sleep?”

She shakes her head, “Nope.”

He hands her a cup, “Drink,” hands her a jelly donut, “Eat.” He’s in what he calls his side of the bed within seconds and offering his arm out for Ivy to snuggle into.

She does. She won’t deny she missed Tom during their ugly break up and while it was a slow return, she’s just glad he’s back and bringing her coffee.

“So, how is it today? On a scale from one to ten.”

She licks some of the glaze off her donut and snuggles a little deeper into Tom’s side. “Like a six point-five.”

He nods. “Well, last week it, it was a full on eight, so--not too bad.”

“No.”

“What did you do yesterday?”

“Nothing. Hung out with Karen.”

“Oh yeah, what did you two gals do together?” He asks before biting into a donut of his own.

She sips her coffee, just the right amount of milk and sugar, and stretches out the silence, staring off into space, ignoring Tom’s eyes burning holes on the side of her face.

“Ivy? You okay?”

“Tom--”

“Yeah?”

“We had a moment yesterday. Karen and I.”

He groans inwardly and shakes his head, “You two. It’s like kids on the playground. You’re friends, then you’re not, you’re friends then you’re not--”

“Tom--”

“--I mean, I get the diva thing, I do and you know I love me some good drama…”

“TOM.”

“What?” He’s looking at her over the rim of his cup as he sips carefully.

Ivy shrinks under his stare, her heart thuds in her chest before admitting more clearly, “We had a ‘moment’ last night.”

Tom very quietly chokes and he blinks a couple of times as he takes in the information. “Oh?”

“Maybe it’s because she was there when I had the miscarriage--I mean, she was there before that too--I don’t know. But I ‘like’ having her around and I like being around her. Is that crazy?”

“No--well, YES--but you know, no, it’s not very crazy. I like Karen, you know that. She’s very sweet and talented. Very pretty.”

“God, you’re on Director mode at all times now, it’s so annoying,” she glares.

“Do you want me to be blunt?”

“Yes.”

“Is she or is she not just a rebound kind of a thing? Because yes, Derek is an asshole for giving you false hope before finally leaving--again--and yes your back and forth with Karen is always unpredictable, but--I honestly don’t think any of us can survive another Karen-Ivy fallout if it involves sex. So, is she a rebound or not?”

Ivy wonders briefly about sex with Karen, blurred quick images that flash through her mind at warp speed as she drinks her coffee without tasting it. “God, I hope not.”

He’s staring at her again. He’s smiling and his eyes are narrowed the way they are when he’s cooking up a saucy new song, making her feel uneasy.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know. There more I think about it, the more I like the idea. When are you seeing her again?”

“I don’t know. It was kind of weird after last night, so--”

“So call her. Don’t give her time get over it.”

“You think I should?”

“Yes. Definitely. Just think of the headline ’Bombshell and Hit List Diva…’ something salacious.”

She laughs. “And you’re a writer. Right?”

“It’s my day off, give me a break.”

**********************

Karen is plagued with the moment on the couch all night and most of the day the next day.

It’s not like the idea of sleeping with a girl is that radical. It’s not the fifties or anything, but still--it’s Ivy. Ivy wasn’t too shy about hating Karen only last year and now--now what? She looked alarmingly like she wanted to be kissed and Karen can’t stop thinking about it. Wondering about it.

Every time she walks past the couch, she finds herself bashfully lowering her head or averting her eyes one way or another as if Ivy is still sitting there, waiting for Karen to do something.

She looks up slowly from where she’s sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, longingly staring at the spot Ivy occupied only the night before. Karen thinks about Ivy’s hair and the way she looked at her--she thinks about her fragile and crying in her arms--she remembers how protective she felt, how much she wanted Ivy to simply not hurt anymore. How she just wanted to make her smile.

Closing her eyes and groaning inwardly, Karen bites her cheek and shakes her head, slowly and then faster. “No, Karen, no-no-no…”

But she’s picking up her phone within seconds and Ivy has answered before Karen can change her mind.

“Hi,” Ivy says on the other end, waiting patiently for Karen to find her voice.

“Do you want to have dinner? With me.”

Ivy chuckles softly in Karen’s ear and the brunette shivers.

“I figured with you. Sure. Where?”

“I hadn’t thought that out yet. Ivy--I meant dinner as in--”

“A date?”

“Yes?” Karen winces.

Ivy smiles, pacing around her apartment with the phone pressed to her ear, pressing the back of her free hand to her cheek, cooling the flushed skin. “Let’s keep this simple. I know a great pasta place around the corner.”

Karen thinks that there is nothing simple about what they’ve just decided to do, but she knows better than to say that. Instead, she hangs up the phone and busies herself with looking presentable by eight PM, and wonders if just maybe she’ll be able to kiss Ivy tonight.

********************

Karen is fifteen minutes late, so Ivy doesn’t ask her up.

Karen blames it on traffic, because in New York City, you can blame just about everything on traffic.

Ivy says she isn’t annoyed but Karen can tell otherwise in the way the blonde walks briskly up the street with Karen close behind.

Not so long ago, Karen would be annoyed by this. She would turn around, walk to the subway station and haul her ass home because she doesn’t need this--or wouldn’t need this, not so long ago. But tonight, tonight Karen feels a warmth inside that makes her almost laugh. She reaches out, slips her hand into Ivy’s and tugs her back, stopping them both in the street.

Ivy, in the midst of her passive aggressiveness, is caught off guard and a s mall gasp escapes her as she’s forced to an abrupt stop and she turns to face Karen, ready to say something hurtful right before she glances downward and notices their joint hands. Now this really catches her off guard and she finds herself staring for a great amount of time before slowly meeting Karen’s gaze.

Karen, who is looking at Ivy like she’s just found the pot of gold, makes Ivy nervous. Nervous in a better way.

Ivy releases a breath and her mouth opens but nothing comes out. She blushes.

Karen’s head tilts to the left, webbing her fingers properly with Ivy’s. That’s it, that’s all it takes to convince herself and Ivy that this is a good idea, that it isn’t crazy and that just maybe, they’ve been dancing towards this moment the entire time.

Dinner is rocky at first. Wine helps.

Nerves seem to guide them throughout and as far as their established friendship goes, it’s a completely different story when it comes to this dating thing. Especially since it’s difficult to slip from sort of friend personalities, to their respective dating personalities.

Date Ivy is usually flirty and coy, deceptive and quietly alluring, but she isn’t sure she can pull off much of it with someone who knows her as well as Karen does. Karen, while not usually the nervous type on first dates, is now wondering what to do with her hands and where to put them when she isn’t holding a fork.

It passes halfway through the main course and by the time dessert arrives, the looks they’re exchanging are more blatant than insecure.

Wine most definitely helps.

On the way back to Ivy’s, Karen debates on whether or not she should hold Ivy’s hand again. Ivy answers that for Karen by doing it herself.

The noise and the lights offer a nice distraction as they walk and they don’t notice it’s in silence until they’re inside Ivy’s apartment and Karen is in the doorway, proposed to say goodnight, only the noise and the people are gone and it’s just the two of them now, looking and seeing freely for what seems to be the first time.

Everything from the triangle of skin Karen’s jacket exposes up front, to the way the shadows outline Ivy’s jaw line is so evidently obvious that it becomes a thick, heavy wall of tension between them.

“Well, goodnight,” Karen says, and holds the remains of that breath before Ivy leans forward and forces it out of her, claiming the brunette’s lips in one swift, firm kiss the quickly becomes wet and deep.

Karen holds loosely onto Ivy’s waist while the blonde cradles Karen’s cheek.

A breath exchanged between them pushes them apart slowly.

With her eyes still closed, Ivy says softly. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Karen kisses Ivy’s cheek then.

“I can stay.”

****************

The first time Ivy slept with a girl, it was all wrong. They were both far too drunk and taking nothing about the encounter seriously. They fumbled and laughed about everything they got wrong. Ivy quickly decided she would not think too much about it. If it happened again with someone else, it would happen and that would be that.

She never really rationalized she would eventually develop feelings for another woman. Not seriously. Sex was easy and she figured then that feelings wouldn’t be a problem because she was catty enough to let it go, with a woman.

She wasn’t counting on her investment on Karen Cartwright.

For Karen, it was a one time thing that wrecked her and broke her and she vowed never to let that happen again. She blamed the whole thing on college and when she first met Ivy, she completely saw it coming.

But that didn’t mean she needed to act upon it.

Attraction is attraction, be it male or female, Karen has experienced both, with or without Dev. But she also has self control and she knows how to use it. She used it with Ivy and hoped she could let it go. She thought she had--until it came around and bit her on the ass.

Bit them both.

Sleeping together, fully clothed was definitely not something they were counting on. And it’s a hell of a lot more intimacy than they were bracing themselves for before this date.

When Ivy wakes up, the first rays of sunshine slipping through the space between her curtains, Karen is sleeping soundly beside her, her brow creased in worry even in her dreams. Ivy hopes it doesn’t have anything to do with her.

The neck of Karen’s shirt is a nice oval frame to her clavicle. It’s sleeveless and her right arm is limply draped over her middle, inadvertently pulling the hem of the shirt up a couple of inches to reveal her navel, lower the brown leather belt in her jeans has left a tiny impression on her hip, a tiny mark on her skin. She breathes easily, exposing just a fraction more of skin with every inhale.

Ivy lifts herself up and rests her weight on her elbow, smiling at the way Karen’s hair falls over her face the way it’s turned that way. Reaching out with hesitant action, Ivy brushes the hair back, careful not to touch the brunette as to not wake her.

Karen stirs and Ivy holds her breath, but the other woman does not wake. Instead, the worry lines on her brow disappear and she scoots closer against Ivy, her hand searching for her and finally resting atop the blonde’s hip.

This is when Ivy feels rested, and safe and if not whole, at least held together. She leans forward and presses her lips softly to Karen’s, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. Karen’s eyes flutter open and that warm brown stare searches Ivy for reassurance, lost momentarily upon consciousness, as to where she is.

Her smile is inevitable and her voice is groggy and sleepy, “Good morning.”

Ivy kisses her again, this time with her palm pressed to her cheek, exhaling a sigh when Karen responds in kind, kissing her back with a sleepy sanguinity that is endearing.

Ivy kisses Karen’s jaw line, as she fingers the loop of the brunette’s belt and effectively pulls the leather tongue from the metal restraint and then moves onto the button of her jeans, where she hesitates for just a moment before a single breath from Karen below her tells her it’s okay to move.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Ivy says with a loud laugh up at the ceiling as Karen flips them both over and is working her way down Ivy’s chest.

Karen lifts her head, a dopey grin plastered on her face, “What do you think Derek would say?”

Ivy laughs even lauder.

It’s the best thing Karen’s heard all year and she kisses Ivy again, swallowing the last of her chuckle.

Karen’s mouth is a revelation Ivy was not expecting. It’s frivolous and incredibly attentive all at once. She sucks on her neck and nibbles just enough to make Ivy feel completely boneless, she kisses her chest and licks each breast, taking her time with every swirl of her tongue, distracting Ivy long enough to slip arms underneath the blonde’s legs while Karen makes her way southward, humming her delight when Ivy arches into her, her hands already gripping the headboard, her teeth baring down on her bottom lip as the fanned out dark hair slides lower and lower.

Ivy tastes heady and sweet. As Karen drags her tongue along the blonde’s slit, she feels her grow wetter under her attention, feels her legs spread wider, offering herself to her.

When Karen glances up with her tongue teasing the hood over Ivy’s swollen clit, the blonde’s mouth falls open with a deep moan. Her lips are wet and red from biting them and her nipples are pert, when Ivy touches one of them, pinching and pressing her palm against it, Karen nearly forgets what she’s doing, but the telling way Ivy’s hips reach for her mouth reminds her and the brunette returns her attention where it’s most wanted.

Karen uses just the tip of her tongue to lift the hood and graze a teasing circle around the blonde’s clit, receiving a shuddering breath in return before she moves onto using the flat of her tongue along the labia, slowly licking each side and then starting all over, slowly from the perineum and upwards before blatantly fucking Ivy with her tongue, holding her hips still as she drives inside her, her arousal dripping into Karen’s mouth now.

Ivy is now panting, the hand that was on her breast now a fist in Karen’s hair as she holds her head still and rides her mouth like it’s a lifeline because it very well might be.

Ivy thought she might be self conscious whenever she had sex after the baby. She thought her body would be a mess and even if it wasn’t, she’d be much too aware of the new changes to let herself enjoy it, but Karen doesn’t give her much of a choice.

She wants to say things to Karen, wants to tell her how good it feels and that yes, she does in fact like when she uses her fingers to fuck her instead and sucks on her clit like that, but what comes out is a moaning, babbling nonsensical utterance that can only be described as very loud, desperate moans her neighbors will leave notes in her mailbox about.

When her orgasm finally comes, it goes and it goes, Karen’s mouth and fingers not letting on, not stopping until Ivy’s stopped screaming and is near whimpering, her hand so tight and pulling on Karen’s hair that the brunette has no choice but to lift her head, gently easing Ivy’s hand out of her hair to trail kisses up the blonde’s still quivering abdomen.

Karen kisses Ivy’s ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth briefly and smiling at the tiny grunt the blonde lets out, her focus mainly set on breathing. Her body is covered in goose-bumps and there is the thinnest sheen of sweat. Karen can’t do much for the ego boost she experiences at noting this, and the way Ivy’s eyes are still closed, ever so concentrated on just breathing.

“So--” Ivy begins, licking her lips to give herself a moment, “--you’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice.” Karen replies, getting her greedy fill of Ivy’s body while she has the chance to. It does not disappoint. She never thought it would.

Ivy opens her eyes then, her breath shallow through her nostrils as she watches Karen’s flushed cheeks and her brown eyes skimming the length of Ivy’s body.

“I might be a little rusty,” the blonde says.

Karen smiles, sits up, get’s rid of her shirt and underwear before straddling Ivy and kissing her soundly on the lips, making sure Ivy can taste herself before pulling back and saying salaciously, “Like riding a bike.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Ride me, then.” Ivy says smartly, swallowing Karen’s responding moan with a bruising kiss before the brunette does just that.

Karen finds her way back between Ivy’s legs, rubbing her cunt against the blonde’s, bracing herself with both hands on either side of Ivy’s head, her eyes shut as she relishes in the feel of their arousal, slick between their bodies, creating the most exquisite friction.

Ivy thinks about the past and wonders how it would have worked out if they had figured this out earlier. But she realizes, as she holds Karen tightly to her, that it’s happening when it’s supposed to happen.

Slowly, as she kisses the brunette, Ivy slips her hand between them and feels the slickness there. She toys with it, her middle finger wet with it as Karen presses her hips harder against Ivy’s hand, breaking their kiss with a shuddering breath when Ivy’s finger delves knuckle deep inside the other woman.

Ivy watches with fascination as Karen arches her neck and licks her lips, moaning as she swivels her hips once and then thrusts downward slowly.

“How’s that feel?”

Karen looks down upon Ivy, her lips parted, breath bated as she says, “More.”

Ivy gives her a second and third finger, that she spreads inside Karen once in a while just to see her eyes roll back, she grinds the heel of her palm against her clit, just to hear her gasp and moan, her teeth gritted as she grinds her hips.

It’s an awkward position Ivy’s gotten them into and her wrist is beginning to ache so she sits up and kisses Karen, urging her onto her back while she looms over her, giving her hand a better angle and more room to move.

It doesn’t take Karen long--only a few thrusts before she’s coming and claiming Ivy’s mouth with a feral intensity that leaves Ivy breathless.

Moments later, When Ivy’s head is propped on her hand and her leg is draped over Karen’s thigh while the brunette rakes her nails over it, the blonde smiles and says, “Best morning bike ride I’ve ever had.”

Karen looks over and out the window, the first time she’s noticed the time and chuckles. “Same here.” And then, “You have officially given up the right to be a bitch to me, by the way.”

“Honey, look who’s talking.”

Karen looks over and Ivy looks half sated, half pissed off. Karen smiles. “Don’t get angry, just kiss me.”

Ivy hates that she does in fact lean over and kiss her. She hates that it will probably be this easy from now on for Karen Cartwright to finally shut Ivy Lynn up. But on the bright side, it will probably work both ways.

***********************

**Epilogue**

_Karen’s back hit’s a rack filled with costumes, blindly falling straight through it and against the wall behind it, Ivy laughing, still pressed against her as they nearly lose their balance._

_“You missed,” Karen says as Ivy shoves the rack away and it tips over and falls._

_Ivy’s eyebrow goes up, “I can leave.”_

_Karen reaches out and pulls Ivy in by her coat, “Shut up.”_

_Rehearsal doesn’t leave them with much time for anything these days and they knew it would be something like this when they agreed to do shows opposite one another. Precisely why they take their time together when they can get it._

_“I’m off before you tonight,” Karen says, slipping her hand up Ivy’s shirt while the blonde busies herself kissing Karen’s neck._

_“Oh, good, you can make dinner.”_

_“Chinese work for you?”_

_“Mmm--” Ivy sighs when Karen palms her breast, thighs pressed firmly against each other, their bodies pressed together, seeking further contact, “--not if you want to get laid tonight.”_

_Ivy goes for Karen’s ass just before there’s a persistent knock on the door and Tom calls from behind it, “Giving you a five second staaart! Being polite heeere!”_

_Karen sighs her frustration while Ivy looks pained as she pushes herself off Karen and they both reach for the clothes rack, lifting it back into place just as the door opens and Tom strolls in, holding a nine month old, gurgling baby girl with auburn hair she got from her grandmother and brown eyes she got from her mother._

_Karen gasps, instantly revitalized by her daughter’s presence, “Hi, baby girl!”_

_Tom hands the baby over to one of her mother’s and then eyes some of the mess left in the couple’s wake, “Sophie is a hit out there, she’s got more lipstick on her than a she-male hooker.”_

_“Oh, sweet,” Ivy says sardonically before joining her child and wife. “Hi, honey…”_

_“You didn’t break anything, did you?” Tom asks, looking around for any permanent damage. “You know this budget is small.”_

_“Nothing you will miss,” Ivy says over her shoulder._

_“Ivy!”_

_“Karen?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Don’t you think Sophie is beginning to look more and more like Tom?”_

_Lifting a giggling Sophie up in the air for further inspecting, Karen frowns, squints her eyes and then nods her head, “By god, I think you’re right, Ivy!”_

_Tom glares at the pair, “You’re just saying that. She looks nothing like me, look at that skin, look at the gorgeous hair.”_

_“No, I really think your genes are finally setting in, uncle Tom.” Ivy tells him with a coy smirk, knowing fully well he’s distracted him already._

_“Yeah, I guess she does look like me a little,” he agrees and sighs when his name is called on stage and leaves, muttering under his breath._

_“It’s scary how manipulative you are,” Karen says, bouncing Sophie on her hip._

_“It’s a gift,” Ivy replies shrugging her shoulders, her eyes then falling on Karen’s mouth with a longing stare, “I’m going to go get us a babysitter for tonight.”_

***********************


End file.
